silver girl
by Feral Phoenix
Summary: My waking dream is assaulted by the whisper of the cold shadows. — Yggdra and the Artwaltzes, romicinde 'verse.


silver girl

_(then, tell me what you'll do to me_ – red shoes strewn aimlessly, deep within the forest)

It was the light through the thin whispers of lace curtains that woke her, and she stretched out under the covers of her bed, covering her eyes with her hand and wrist. There was no faint classical music from the alarm clock, and yet the sun was definitely up. It was quite odd.

She remembered that it was Sunday.

Yggdra sighed and pushed herself up slowly, careful not to plant the heels of her hands on her hair, which would yank it. Her eyes were still a little bleary, but she still stared around the room. The whole place looked so empty and barren; everything that mattered had already been packed last night, after all. Only the things that couldn't be brought along remained.

She levered herself out of bed with a sigh. The wooden floorboards were slightly chilly against her bare feet. It was odd to see her bedroom, such a personal place in her life, laid entirely bare of ornamentation. She knew that this would make the transfer easier—to have all of her things—especially given the length of time that she wouldn't be able to return to this room, but even so.

Her ballet slippers were already tucked into a suitcase, and so when she raised herself up it was on the balls of her feet rather than en pointe. She sank into plié, then pushed herself back upwards as she arced her arms, and swung forward slowly into an arabesque. The stretch of her muscles as she pointed her toe was invigorating—it felt as though the blood was finally starting to move in her head. She pirouetted three times, posed, and stumbled when she tried to raise herself up onto her toes.

The floors of her new room would be carpeted, most likely. And the room itself wouldn't be as large, so she might not even be able to practice in the mornings like this. She wouldn't have a walk-in closet walled with mirrors anymore—no bars to hold on to and no private sanctum in which she could practice bends all by herself.

The dance studio would have to be good enough from tomorrow onwards. Yggdra sighed to herself. She didn't even really have time to dawdle today; she would be leaving after lunch, and there was still so much to do.

* * *

><p>Dressed, with her nightclothes folded and tucked away into her bag, Yggdra wandered through the mansion on silent feet. It would be the last chance she got to burn the scenery into her memory. Even so, fishing for her phone to take a few last-minute pictures seemed a bit overly dramatic.<p>

The staff would draw white cloths over everything to keep the fine surfaces from gathering dust. Yggdra tried to imagine it, but it was difficult. It seemed like a haunted house or something like that: Everything put on pause, holding its breath, silent.

But the cloths wouldn't actually be draped until after everyone left, and there was still some time before then. Yggdra walked to the corner, pulled out the piano bench, and tried to play what she could of the pieces she was studying from memory. Some were easier than others to recall; eventually she was just left with her favorites. She closed her eyes for those. The world, and what waited for her, and everything beyond her fingers and the piano keys disappeared. Concentrating, she blocked it out with all her strength.

She played until her fingers began to ache, and then stopped to breathe. Soft applause broke the silence, and she opened her eyes to gauge the source: Her father was standing in the doorframe, his handsome face creased with a smile.

"It's time for lunch, Yggdra," he told her.

She stood up obediently, flexing her hands, and pulled the cover back down over the piano keys. When Ordene took a step back as if to turn around and head across the hall, she was already halfway across the room so that she might follow him.

* * *

><p>Lunch was a plate of diagonally-cut watercress sandwiches and a high pile of cucumber slices, with tall glasses of lemonade. It was just the two of them: Yggdra's mother had left early in the morning to make the preparations and do the paperwork, and the mansion staff all had their jobs to see to. Even the maid who had laid the plates on the table had immediately curtseyed herself out of the room.<p>

Yggdra crossed her ankles beneath the table and reached for another sandwich. It was quieter than usual in the wide and airy kitchen, and it already felt lonely.

"Is there something on your mind?"

She looked up and smiled apologetically. Even though this certainly wasn't the first time that she'd seen her father in a suit in the kitchen, there was always a kind of displaced air about the sight. Ordene Artwaltz was always her father first and a businessman second, but they were very much separate identities, and for him to be dressed as one while acting as the other had always seemed strange to her.

"There really is no way that I could come with you, is there?" she ventured, although she already knew what the answer would be.

"Unfortunately not—even if it were plausible to complete the paperwork for you at this late date," her father replied in a steady voice. His gaze was not unkind, but his words were relentless. "It wouldn't be a problem were we to remain in one place, but we will be effectively touring Europe, and won't remain in one area for very long nor return to the same place twice. Language difficulties aside, your mother and I don't think it would be fair to your education or your social life—you'd get used to one school and one group of friends only to be torn away from them a few months later. You'll have a much more stable schooling if you remain here."

He reached across the table to touch the back of her hand. "It may seem unfair, but we're trying to think about what's best for you. Do you understand?"

She did. Still, she couldn't help the sigh. "Even so. If it were possible, I would have liked to stay with you and Mother, no matter how hectic things would be."

Ordene patted her knuckles sympathetically. "It won't all be bad. You've always gotten along with your uncle, and this way you'll be able to stay with your cousin. Think of it as a chance to get to know him better.

"And besides—your presence will be needed when it comes to the publicity of our company. With the two of us abroad, you will be the face of our business. Learn from your relatives, and represent us to the best of your ability. You have my trust, my daughter."

A part of her wanted to argue that in that case he might as well let her stay in the house, but she understood nevertheless. She was, after all, still a minor. Any number of butlers and maids couldn't actually serve as a guardian to her under these circumstances, especially not if she was giving them their orders.

"It's only a few years," Ordene said quietly. "And there's always the phone and the Internet; we won't lose contact with each other completely."

Yggdra nodded and sighed again and slipped her hand out from beneath her father's so that she could finish eating her sandwich.

* * *

><p>The drive wasn't even an hour long, even though the limousine driver went at precisely the speed limit and not above, and spent quite a lot of time weaving through various affluent neighborhoods.<p>

Her father made a few attempts at small talk, but they all died down quickly. Yggdra couldn't think of anything important to say. It was pathetic; this was, after all, going to be her last chance to speak to him in person for the next two and a half years. It had been the same way with her mother. She didn't want them to look at her as a child still clinging to them and begging for them not to leave her behind alone, but if adulthood meant being able to improvise important goodbyes without a lot of time to think, then she still had a ways to go.

While Yggdra was busy staring out the window and thinking and trying to stop thinking even though her head already felt close to hollowed out, the limousine had already pulled up to the grounds and begun crawling up the drive.

She had been here before a few times, and then as now she had always been struck by the shape of the house. It was still quite large, almost the size of her own family's mansion, but it was long and low rather than tall. The place only had two floors and a basement, but somehow it felt much vaster; it was the twists and turns of some of the hallways, probably. If you didn't know your way through the place, it could feel like a warren. Yggdra could remember playing intense, day-long games of hide and seek with other Artwaltz children here when she was very small.

Her godfather was a man with a sense of mystique.

Maybe a better way to put it was that he liked his things to have a kind of opulence about them, that he had a weakness for gloss and frippery. His connections to the Artwaltz business allowed him the wealth to indulge in his fine tastes, and indulge in them he did when he had the freedom to do so. It was a little silly of him, but then he was a bit of a silly person. According to her father, he had always been like this—but when one of the most important members of Ordene's staff had retired from his job due to office politics, her godfather had been the best man to fill the empty position, and he had always worked to the best of his ability. That had been almost twenty-five years ago, and since then he and Ordene had gradually become good friends.

Even though he wasn't a blood relative, he'd always been something like an honorary member of the family—and that had even become more solidified when he had volunteered to take up legal guardianship of her cousin when he'd been orphaned. Yggdra couldn't remember it very well—she'd been quite young when that had happened—but she could vaguely recall the angry discussions between all of her relatives as they argued about who would have to take him in. Something about the circumstances, or maybe it was the timing, had made everyone reluctant—and everyone who might have been willing already had children to provide for, as with her parents. In the end, her godfather had stepped up, and even now everyone spoke well of his magnanimous decision. Yggdra couldn't be the only one to think of him as an honorary Artwaltz now.

Maybe—maybe her own circumstances were a little bit similar. Yggdra folded her fingertips underneath her palm on the seat, trying to keep from frowning visibly lest her father ask. With her parents going overseas for business, and planning to stay overseas for so long, someone was going to have to at least give her a place to stay. She was sixteen and could more or less look after herself, but her relatives might still think of her as a child, an unwanted burden.

It was an unpleasant thought, and it was surprisingly difficult to banish.

_In any case, _she told herself, _if this is the same as what's happened before, then there really is no problem. He's volunteered to look after me; he won't mind._ For all his eccentricities and pompousness, her godfather was a kind person. Living in this mostly-unfamiliar place might take some getting used to, but it wouldn't be so much of a hardship.

Besides, he'd never shied from spoiling her, and here there was someone her own age to make friends with. It was preferable to being placed with some begrudging relative, or to being completely alone.

This wasn't as bad as it could be.

As she was taking a deep breath to resign herself, the limousine stopped. A moment later, the door opened; the driver was standing there, bowing her and her father out professionally.

Ordene was already nodding to her, so Yggdra slid down the seat and stepped out of the car.

They had stopped quite close to the house, and her relatives seemed to have come out to meet them. Alanjame stood at the center of the drive with his hands folded behind his broad back, his usual calm smile on his face. It struck Yggdra, as it often did these days, that he really was rather short—she was slowly creeping up on his height, and if she kept growing for a few more years she might actually wind up taller than him. Her godfather always gave off the presence of someone larger than himself, both from his self-assured manner and his stockiness; if Yggdra ever did surpass his height, she very much doubted that it would truly feel natural.

"Welcome," Alanjame proclaimed, spreading his heavy hands wide in a glad gesture. Yggdra noted with no small amusement that he was wearing no less than five rings on each hand: Her honorary uncle the magpie. "It's as much an honor to be hosting this fine young lady as it is a sorrow to see you depart, old friend."

Yggdra dropped a shallow curtsey, unable to keep herself from smiling. Here he was, her silly old godfather with his silly beard and gaudy jewelry and his laugh lines, with the past summer's freckles still fading off his face. "Not at all; I'm honored that you've offered to let me stay with you, Uncle Alanjame."

He nodded to her, all good-natured pomp, and turned to the colorless boy standing behind him at his shoulder. "Be good and see to your cousin's things. Show her to her room, as well. I'd like a moment to speak to Ordene before he leaves."

Nessiah nodded silently, with no expression on his face whatsoever, and began to circle around to the trunk of the limousine, where the driver was already at work lifting Yggdra's luggage from the trunk and setting it on the driveway. As usual, his gaze was downcast and his movements were so mincing and listless that Yggdra felt a little drained just looking at him.

If she were to be honest with herself, she'd never really known what to make of her cousin. Even in her earliest memories of him, he had always been very quiet, and forever seemed to try to make himself as invisible as possible. She couldn't think of even one time that he had tried to come and play with her and the other cousins. Other people had called him antisocial, but he was probably just shy. Having lost one's parents and then been jostled around when no one wanted to take custody of you couldn't really be considered encouragement to try to interact with others.

So Yggdra went to join him as he wrapped both pale hands around the handle of one of the larger suitcases. His shoulders and arms went tense as he tried to lift it, but it didn't budge at all.

"That one's heavy, let me take care of it," she told him. "The other ones are lighter, and the rest of the big valises all have wheels, so you don't have to try to pick them up."

Nessiah looked up at her blankly, then immediately cast his gaze downward. He let go of the suitcase as if it had burned him, and so subtly that Yggdra might have missed it if she hadn't been watching closely, his eyes narrowed.

"I apologize." Even his voice was barely more than a whisper.

"You don't have to feel bad." Remarking that she hadn't expected him to be able to do any heavy lifting with such a waiflike build would be insensitive, surely, so Yggdra just hefted a duffel bag's strap over her shoulders and lifted up the problematic suitcase with both hands. "I did pack a lot of things, after all."

Nessiah didn't reply immediately, but it seemed like his face was starting to redden slightly. "…Even so. I was told to assist you, after all."

"Alanjame shouldn't hold it against you; I'm the one who didn't pack lightly. Come on, it's not a big deal; you can take the small ones. That's still helping. You don't have to apologize for not being able to do something. Everyone has things they can and can't do, after all."

This time he actually looked up at her, though he kept his head slightly bowed. There was indeed a faint blush at his cheekbones. His stare was very intense—it was a little difficult to tell where to look, because the cloudy blue of his right eye was still incredibly unnerving and Yggdra was a little hesitant to stare him straight in the left eye lest he drop his gaze again. It felt a bit wrong to avoid acknowledging Nessiah's partial blindness straight on, but it was hard to tell how to do acknowledge it tactfully, so it might be best to just not say anything for now.

"At any rate, let's take in what we can. I'll have a lot of unpacking to do later, but for now I don't want to miss seeing Father off. Will you show me the way?"

Nessiah was silent for another few moments longer; waiting for him to answer was excruciating, but Yggdra bore down on the urge to fidget. "…All right."

It took a few false starts, but Nessiah was able to work out how to pull the other large suitcase while carrying a smaller bag on his own. Yggdra followed him, keeping her gladness to herself. She didn't know how he might react to her helping him over and over when she was after all younger and he was already unhappy with not being able to lift things on his own. Not drawing any more attention than necessary to his insecurities felt the safest.

The house was as labyrinthine as ever. Nessiah led her silently through the web of hallways, twisting and turning and cutting across rooms crowded with antique furniture. Yggdra spent a few disoriented minutes feeling six years old again until she realized that Nessiah was taking a number of detours.

When she asked about it, he shook his head. His voice was quiet enough that she had to lean in to catch it. "The wheels… might scratch wood."

_Oh._ He was deliberately making sure that they were only walking over rugs and carpeting. Yggdra couldn't help but marvel a bit at the care he was taking, then considered that Alanjame would most likely be disappointed if she made a mess of his flooring.

"That's good thinking. It looks like you've saved me from getting in trouble already." She couldn't quite keep the giggle out of her voice, and was rewarded by a brief, rather wan-looking apologetic smile out of Nessiah. The next moment he had turned away from her again, and they were off.

They reached the room that would become hers shortly after. It was quite a bit smaller than her real bedroom, but not so much so that she wouldn't be able to store her things properly. Many of her belongings had already been set up in the load that her mother had delivered yesterday, and so long as there was room for her suitcases in the bottom of the closet it looked to Yggdra as though she could set herself up with relative comfort here.

There were, of course, no convenient mirrors for impromptu dance practice, and the floor was covered in thick carpet. But it probably wouldn't all be bad.

"Let's go and get the other load," she suggested. "I'll carry the big one so that we don't have to go the long way."

Nessiah didn't respond verbally, but he nodded very shallowly and slipped back into the hallway. Yggdra followed after him.

The trip this time was considerably shorter, although it was still a little frustrating to realize that she would probably have trouble locating her room for a little while. Alanjame's mansion was a mess of cluttered rooms and winding corridors just as it had been when she was a small girl, and it was no less frustrating now than it had been during her hide-and-seek stints as "it".

All the same, she could acclimate. She understood that. Being apart from her parents might be lonely, but she had her uncle here to keep her company, her cousin to make friends with, and the staff working at this house to get to know. And like her father had said—even if she wasn't technically working at the Artwaltz company quite yet, she was the president's daughter. She had to act as their public face while they were gone.

If there was any one chance to prove herself as an adult who could make her own decisions in life, this was it, wasn't it? So even now, even when she wasn't quite emotionally prepared to bury the homesickness that was already starting to burn at her stomach, she had to put on a brave face and act the part.

So when she and Nessiah returned to the drive, where Alanjame and Ordene were no longer in conversation, she just smiled at her father instead of trying to make one last futile plea.

Ordene laid his hands on her shoulders. Her father's gaze was very intense; his brow was heavy, and his perfectly-groomed beard obscured the rest of his expression.

"Do me proud," he told her in a low voice, and her eyes prickled a little at his sad smile.

"Yes, Father."

He hugged her once, briefly, and then parted from her, getting into the limousine without a backwards look. Yggdra stood still and watched him drive off in silence, smiling after him even once the vehicle had vanished around a bend.

When she turned around, Alanjame was smiling at her benevolently, and Nessiah was once again looking at the ground with his hands clasped in the folds of his full skirts.

"Shall we retire for today, my princess?" Alanjame suggested, gesturing at the house grandly. "I'm sure that you must have a great deal of unpacking to do in order to settle in."

"All right," she replied, and when he made his way to the door with heavy footfalls, she followed. Nessiah trailed after the two of them a few beats later.

When Yggdra crossed over the threshold into her new home, it was with poise, and with her head held high.


End file.
